


Sex, Blood, and, uh, Sex

by Loverlylo



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Street Fighting, Eddie Is a Street Fighter, M/M, Rough Sex, gift exchange fic, gratuitous referances to Buck's time in South America, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverlylo/pseuds/Loverlylo
Summary: Buck is on a call to an illegal street fight when one of the fighters catches his eye. Imagine his surprise when Staff Sergeant Diaz tracks him down off the clock.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 19
Kudos: 413
Collections: 9-1-1 Server Gift Exchange 2020





	Sex, Blood, and, uh, Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smartbuckley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartbuckley/gifts).



> Happy Giftmas, Jamie! I hope you enjoy.

Los Angeles was more than Hollywood, and there was no clearer way to learn that than by joining the LAFD.  _ You see every seedy inch of a town working in the fire department, even more than the cops _ .  _ You can’t call the cops when your heroin gets stolen, but you can call EMS for an OD _ . Buck mused as he worked his way through the crush of people who’d gone running when the ambulance rolled up. 

Normally, a call to an abandoned warehouse would be the result of a shooting, stabbing, or, on one occasion, a guy whose rhythmic gymnast girlfriend about beaten his brains in with her clubs. Given that he was trying to hawk her gold medals for coke, Buck didn’t really blame her. This time, though, things looked a little rougher. He used his bulk to shove past the fleeing throng, as the first rule of emergency services is to run towards the thing everyone else was running from.

He and Hen came upon a mostly empty room. No furniture, no interior walls, nothing but an octagon lined out in tape and betting slips scattered on the floor. Well, nothing except the two men sitting in the center of the roughly marked ring.

“I do not get this.” Hen remarked as they made their way over.

“Seriously? They’re gladiator games.” Buck remarked. “All that adrenaline and endorphins, mixed with victory and blood. It’s fun.”

“No, I get things like MMA fights.” Hen shot back. “Like you said, gladiators. What I don’t get is the low-rent, human cockfighting version.”

They reached the two men, and Buck was surprised. He’d assumed both men were injured and left by those more interested in saving themselves, but upon circling around, only one looked hurt. The other, a devastatingly handsome brunet with a gash over his eye, was holding him up.

“MMA makes you hold back.” He said when Hen and Buck entered his eyeline. At their confusion, he nodded towards Hen. “You said you didn’t know why people liked street fights. MMA, UFC, they have rules. Here, anything goes.”

Hen kneeled down to examine their patient. “Which clearly never causes problems. You know what happened to him, or is this your handiwork?”

The man gave a wry smirk, one that showed the blood still in his mouth. It shouldn’t have been hot, but the way his tongue licked over the cuts on his lip made Bucks’ own blood start rushing south. “Don’t look at me. I was done and dusted when the dick after me kicked this fuckers face in. When he stayed down, I broke it up. Saw some cartilage had dislodged, so I cleared his throat and kept him upright. Staff Sergeant Diaz, former army medic. Two tours in Afghanistan.” He said in response to his and Hen’s questioning look.

Hen completed her exam, then turned to Buck. “There’s nothing else we can do except transport him. I’ll grab the gurney.”

Buck knelt and took their patients' pulse. Slow, but acceptable considering the circumstances. “You know, it’s too bad, Diaz. I wanted to like you.” Buck winked at Diaz’s slightly hurt look. “But I just cannot overlook something like the army.”

He chuckled. “Don’t tell me. Jarhead?”

Buck feigned offense at the accusation. “SEAL trials. Didn’t work out, but uh, some things stuck.”

Diaz gave a slow, lascivious look that dragged over Buck’s entire body. “Really? I’d think a face pretty as yours would have no problems in the navy.”

At that, Buck nearly choked on his spit. Sure, he’d been flirting a little-- seriously, Diaz was so hot “Whatta Man” started playing in his head the moment he saw him-- but he hadn’t actually expected Diaz to flirt back. “I dropped out, actually. Did some backpacking. Ended up in a few street fights like this in Rosario.”

“Argentina? I spent some in Buenos Aires.” The other man said with a genuine smile. “I’d have liked to see that. Bet you were good.”

“I was alright.” Buck deferred. “Money was good, but I had the same issue I had with the SEALs: loved the adrenaline, hated the violence.”

“Explains how you ended up here.” Diaz mused.

Buck’s response was interrupted by Hen’s return. The patient was a big dude, but he and Diaz had no issues hefting him onto the gurney. Buck couldn’t help but stare as his well-defined abs and biceps flexed as he moved. Patient secured, Diaz moved to make his own escape.

“Wait!” Buck called out. He wasn’t sure why, other than he just didn’t want him to leave yet. “Your eye. It needs stitches.” 

It was a lame excuse, and Diaz seemed to know that. “I can take care of myself. See you around.” He gave a one-handed wave and melted into the shadows of the dilapidated buildings. 

With a sigh, Buck pulled himself into the rig, only to find Hen waiting for him, judgment written all over her face. “Seriously, Buck? The blood covered street fighter? I know you’ve been hard up since Ali but damn. I thought you had standards.”

“I also have eyes.” He shot back as he clambered into the driver's seat. “Even you have to admit he was fucking gorgeous.”

She gave a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll give you that one.”

* * *

Buck wasn’t going to lie; he expected to see Staff Sergeant Diaz again. Just, in his mind as he jerked off thinking about what a man with that body could do to him. Get in his space, push him around, hold him down . . . Buck liked girls too, but there’s something intoxicating about getting pushed around in all the right ways.

Lost in his daydream as he headed to his jeep, Buck nearly jumped when he saw the apple of his cock leaning against it like he owned it. “What are you doing here? How’d you even find me?” He asked, wondering if this was real or a hallucination brought on by a depressingly long dry spell.

Diaz chuckled darkly. “House number on the ambulance led me to the 118 and you seem like a jeep kind of guy. As for what, you’re right. My eye needs stitches.”

Buck opened his car and tossed his bag in the backseat, noting the messy but serviable line of stitches above his left brow. “Thought you could take care of yourself.”

“Oh, I can.” A lewd smirk took over Diaz’s face as he moved forward, crowding Buck against his car and running one finger down Buck’s face to toy with the chain he wore. The touch was feather-light, but Buck felt it like a lightning bolt straight to his dick. Diaz bent down and  _ bit _ Buck’s earlobe before purring out “But I thought it might be nice if you took care of me instead.”

For half a heartbeat, Buck considered saying no. He wasn’t Buck 1.0 anymore. He’d loved, he’d lost, he’d lost again . . . there had been a lot of losing recently. And there was a difference between borrowing the engine for Tinder hookups and taking up fucking Adonis on his offer after the end of shift. Right?

Just then, Diaz simultaneously palmed Buck’s dick and ground his own into Buck’s hip, all while saying “You can take care of me, can’t you?” and Buck’s willpower just vanished. Took a personal day and left Buck gasping.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can take care of you.” He met the other man's eyes before leaning forward and giving a bite of his own, right where his lip was split open from the previous night. “Now, get in my goddamn car.”

* * *

Buck had no idea how he’d managed to get back to his place in one piece. Seriously, his guardian angel must have been working overtime, as he’d sped, cut people off, possibly run a red light or three, and almost put his car into second gear on the highway. In his defense, he was trying to drive while the sexiest man he’d ever seen was sitting shotgun and spent the entire drive with his hands on Buck’s gearstick and muttering about giving Buck road head.

It provided a challenge, was the point.

Somehow, he managed to get to his apartment in one piece. He threw his car into park and exhaled sharply. He looked at Diaz out of the corner of his eye, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face just pissed Buck off. So he lunged sideways and kissed it off his smug face.

From the moments their lips touched, it was like a bomb had gone off between them. It was a fight, teeth nipping and tongues wrestling as both men tried to force the other one into submission. Buck won by fisting his hand in Diaz’s hair and yanking hard, then diving in to suck a hickey right over the other man’s windpipe, with a few nips thrown in for good measure. 

Victory achieved, Buck put his hands on Diaz’s well-defined chest and shoved, relishing the stunned look on his face when he ended up against the other door, and how it morphed into a truly lewd grin. 

Buck gave one of his own before snagging his gear bag and heading up to his place. He didn’t need to look behind him; he could feel the Staff Sergeant's presence behind him. The moment he unlocked his door, he found himself pushed up against the wall. Diaz was clearly out for revenge for earlier. He hoisted Buck’s legs around his waist and  _ ground _ , his dick and Buck’s meeting in sharp, almost painful press. 

Buck threw his head back and wailed at how good it hurt, the thud of his head cracking into his wall drowned out by Diaz growling in his ear. “God, you look so fucking pretty. All that bulk, SEAL trial bullshit, but you’ll melt for the first guy who can toss you around.” He reached down to grab at Buck’s ass, palming it roughly before giving it a smack. This irked Buck enough to ruck Diaz’s shirt up and rake his nails over his back, hard enough to leave scratch marks. The other man gave a harsh gasp, then grinned, wild and feral before diving back into Buck’s mouth, and oh, god. He bit at Buck’s mouth just as hard, tongues sliding past each other and  _ fuck _ , Buck felt like he was about to blow his load just from this, just needed to push his cock a little harder--

“Jesus fucking Christ and all of his carpenter friends, Evan! You have a door!” His neighbor, a elderly woman who cusses worse than any sailor he’s ever met barks out. Buck glances over and realizes that yes, he was four seconds from fucking a stranger with his door wide open. 

He waved sheepishly. “Hi, Mrs. Andrews.” She harrumphed and walked past as Buck shut his door, leaning against it and trying to catch his breath. Diaz had stripped his shirt off, revealing not only a mouthwatering chest, but a litany of scars and tattoos that Buck wanted to explore.

With his tongue.

In an infuriatingly sexy move, Diaz raised a solitary eyebrow at his perusal. Buck quickly pulled off his boots and jeans, then strutted past him, his signature cocky smirk in place as he felt the other man’s gaze drag all over his body, lingering on his crotch. He paused at the foot of his stairs, surprised to see him standing in the same place, just staring at Buck. He flicked his tongue between his teeth. “See something you like, Diaz?”

Buck’s question seemed to have jolted him out of his reverie. “Fuck yes, but I’m gonna do a lot more than look.” He quickly came up behind him, reaching around to palm Buck’s dick as he bit down in the hollow below Buck’s ear.

Buck rolled his eyes as he climbed the rest of the stairs. “You’re a goddamn vampire, you know that?”

Suddenly, he found himself lying on his back, Diaz pulling his briefs off with his teeth before spitting them out and giving Buck a once over that was positively wolfish. He efficiently stripped his own belt, boots, and jeans, revealing he wore nothing underneath them. It also revealed a truly delicious dick, nine inches and uncut and fucking thick.

_ I am not going to be walking straight tomorrow _ . Buck thought.  _ Halle-fucking-llujah.  _ Diaz climbed onto his bed and straddled his waist, pulling him up for a hot, hard kiss. Buck gave as good as he got, chasing Diaz’s mouth when he pulled away.

“Lube?” He gasped out, breathless from Buck’s kisses. 

“Nightstand.” He gasped back. “Condoms, too.”

Diaz shot him a faux-hurt look. “Aw, you don’t trust me?”

Buck burst out laughing; he just couldn’t help himself. “The only thing I know about you is that you’re an extremely hot ex-army street fighter. I don’t even know your first name. No, I don’t fucking trust you.”

In one swift move, Buck’s hands were pinned above his head, his hands being wrapped around the bars of his headboard. “But you let me into your place?”

Buck shrugged the best he could manage. “Do I look like I make good choices?”

Eddie sat back on his haunches, studying Buck as if seriously considering the question. “Well, you're sprawled out and about to get the fucking of your life, so yeah. Seems like you do.”

“You do illegal street fights. Your judgment is clearly warped.” He retorted.

Eddie shrugged right back. “It has advantages. Good pay, flexible hours, great work-life balance. And my name’s Eddie. Figure you should know, because you’re about to start screaming it, Evan.”

Buck wanted to roll his eyes at the cheesy, cliched line. He even got halfway through doing it when he felt a pressure at his asshole. Not just one lubed finger, but two, right to the second knuckle. Buck almost screamed, but it hurt so fucking good. When Eddie began to scissor them, he kicked out with his right foot, the shift in his hips shoving the digits even father and then. Yeah, then he screamed. “Oh, god! Eddie!”

He went to reach down, to grab Eddie’s dick while he fingered him, only for Eddie to bark out “Hands, Evan” and Buck put them back. Gripped the bars so tight he could feel his fingers going white as Eddie fingered him roughly. Two fingers in, then a third, then a fourth, all much faster than Buck typically went for, but perfect for this. He’d gone from not expecting to walk straight tomorrow to being disappointed if he was able to. 

Eddie put his fourth finger in, Buck tearing up because it burned but so damn sweetly, swearing a blue streak of “fuck” “god” and “yes” when Eddie just. Stopped. Held Buck's hips down and stared at Buck’s hole stretched around his hand before letting loose a stream of filth, wanting to wreck Buck, to bruise him, to make him feel it for a week, about how damn pretty he looked strung out on Eddie’s hand.

“Jesus, if I look so pretty, then why won’t you just fuck me already?” Buck shouted, cutting Eddie off.

Eddie looked stunned and jumped back, pulling his hand free as he did. Buck almost cried at the sudden emptiness. “You speak Spanish?”

Buck glared at him, pissed off and insulted and so goddamn horny. “Uh, I lived in Argentina. So si, este gringo habla español, pendejo. Now that we’ve established I’m bisexual and bilingual, will you please stick your cock up my ass?”

Apparently, please really was the magic word, because one moment Eddie had developed a dark glint in his eyes, and the next, a condom was on, his cock was lubed, and Buck was being pounded like an eight dollar whore. It was rough, too much way too soon, and Buck was honestly concerned he’d be making a very awkward ER visit later.

It was also the best sex of his life.

Eddie had found Buck’s prostate and lasered in on it, hitting it squarely with every hard, deep stroke. When Eddie spat in his palm and reached for Buck’s dick it was all over. Two rough, raw tugs and he was coming all over his stomach and Eddie’s hand, who immediately brought it to his mouth and licked it clean. Another three, four, five thrusts, and Eddie came too, filling the condom. Buck had a brief moment of regret at not being able to feel Eddie’s cum inside of him, but he shook it off. Barebacking some dude you met at a street fight was a level of stupid not even he had achieved.

Eddie pulled out and dropped to one side, while Buck made his way to the bathroom for a washcloth and  _ yep _ , that twinge was only going to get worse. His next shift was going to be so much fun, not to mention Chim would tell Maddie and Hen would tell Athena. . .

He wiped the jizz of his stomach, then headed back into his bedroom, not bothering to put anything on. Clearly, his guest didn’t mind him being naked. 

He wasn’t surprised to see Eddie pulling his clothes back on, but he was a little disappointed. “What, not good enough for a round two?” He leaned in the doorway, posing a little.

Eddie chuckled. “Believe me, if I could, I’d stay here until you tossed me out. But I gotta pick up my son from school.” He began pulling on his boots. 

Buck smiled, a genuine grin at the thought of the man in front of him with a kid. He seemed like he’d be a good dad, which was a strange impression to get from your hook-up. “You have a kid? I love kids.”

And he did. Buck had always liked kids, found children much more honest and less judgy than their parents. 

“I love this one.” Eddie tossed his phone over. The lock screen showed an young boy, maybe eight, with braces and a huge grin. 

“He’s adorable.” And Buck meant it, that kid looked like sunshine given human form.

He went to hand Eddie his phone back as the other man moved towards his stairs, but he didn’t take it; just unlocked it. 

“Put your number in. I’d like to see you again, and I figure I shouldn’t use 911 as a dating service.” Eddie said, the barest hint of a blush despite everything they’d just done and Buck still being naked. 

“Probably wouldn’t work out.” Buck answered as he texted himself from Eddie’s phone. “With my luck, you’d ask for Buckley and end up talking to my sister.”

“I’m sure there are worse things.” His phone chirped, and Eddie gave a regretful sigh. “My Uber’s here.” Eddie gave Buck a final kiss, one that was surprisingly tender and romantic. 

Buck sat on his bed, distantly noting the sound of his door opening and closing. His phone buzzed. 

_ Text from Unknown Number: think you could take care of me again Tuesday? _

Buck grinned, and began to text back.


End file.
